Cirque de Alicante
by Katchia
Summary: Is this a better title? My attempt at spinning a long tale about Magnus and Alec! Alec has lived in a circus since he was born, but recently there has been some complications. Magnus is a extremely confused immortal who is in a rut. Reading is good. For you. So read this!
1. Chapter 1

A/N This first chapter may seem quite a bit dismal and unpromising, but please bear with me. It gets better. I promise. Just a bit of background on these two. I may change this chapter a lot in the future. I was thinking adding some criminals and detectives as well as some sarcasm and comedy.

* * *

**Year 1914**

The door jungles behind me as I let it swing shut on the crisp morning air. Tipping my ridiculously expensive new hat to the woman behind the desk, I sit on one of the elegant wood backed chairs that sit to the right of the white washed doorway. I crack open my newspaper, and prepare to wait, once again. One of the headlines catches my eye: **"Famed 'Ci****rco Angelorum' Circus Seized By Government."**

I stare for a few shocked moments. My heart pounds. I flip to page 4.

* * *

**Year 1932**

"Magnus Bane?"

I shoot to my feet. "That's me." The richly dressed man eyes me. "You're Magnus Bane?" I shuffle my feet. "I did say that, Sir." The man doesn't look too believing. "How old are you, boy?"

This is a tight subject. Should I tell him my age? Or tell him how old I look; how old_ he_ thinks I am.  
"Nineteen, Sir."

We walk down a hallway to a large, expensively furnished office. He sits behind the mahogany desk. I sit in the small green chair.

He grunts. "I read your resume." Pause. "Tell me, son, how is it possible for you to be this skilled in your line - various lines - of work?" Another pause in which I don't answer him. I've gotten in way to much trouble already. "I have a problem with this, boy."

I'M OLDER THAN YOU STOP CALLING ME CONDESCENDING NAMES LIKE BOY.

"I have a problem believing you did all this" He waves his hand over my large folder "In just a few years." I don't mention that the first time I ever worked was when I was originally nineteen.

He grunts again. "Well, I suppose it couldn't do any harm trying you out. Right?" Does he want me to answer him? Before I can, he does it for me. "Wrong." I wonder what he's going to do about it. "You are dismissed."

I'm _dismissed_? Who does this bastard think he is, King? Just as I am about to get all up in his face, he sighs. "It is really too bad. Such a young man, too." He looks up at me, and chuckles. "The least you could have done is chosen a better name than_ Magnus Bane._"

I just glower and head out of the annoyingly decadent building into the rain. I should have expected this. After all, who would want someone like me?

* * *

**1928  
**

The air smells like cinnamon, just as it usually does at this time in the morning.

My little siblings bounce up to me. "Alec!" they chorus. "Hey there. Did you get one of Jia's buns before she caught you this time?" I sit down on the side of one of the caravans. My youngest brother, Max, jumps up into my lap, and nods his head. Izzy puts one of the warm sticky buns into my hand, and then runs off to find her friends.

My adoptive brother, Jace, leans against the side of the caravan, chomping on a bun as well. I shoo Max off, and stand up. "Ready to go?" I ask Jace. He says something with his mouth full, and then gives me a hug .I freeze. I can feel my heart speeding up, my breath hitching in my chest.

A second later, Jace swallows and grins. "I said, If you'd quit daydreaming like always, that I'm leaving today, remember?" I nod. "Um...be careful?" It's only a question because I know that Jace will always get into any trouble, whether it has anything to do with him or not.

Patrick yells for him, and he runs off, yelling over his shoulder "Good luck tonight! " My hand waves, as if of its own accord. It takes a second for Jace's words to sink in. I imagine the face I'm making right now must be a grimace. Last nights performance hadn't gone well at all. I swallow. I used to be really good, too. It was had just been so hard to concentrate lately.

* * *

**Two hours later**

"Alexander! Get your ass down here!"

I climb down the pole and landed beside Hodge. The old guy didn't perform anymore, and usually helped everyone out with their training. He had been the one to teach Jace and I how to throw knives; I could even throw blind folded and backwards.

Hodge was currently shaking his head in my direction. "I don't know what your problem is, Alec. Is this boring for you? Is it too hard? Is there something wrong with the combination?" I look at my feet. Hodge sighs. "Try it again."

I climb back up to the tightrope. I take a deep breath, and run out onto the middle, immediately try to throw myself into my complicated routine. Spin, jump, spin, step back, splits, hang by your feet, flip...

Just as I'm about to finish, my base foot slips. I hear Hodge yell. I reach out my arm to try and catch the rope...it is too far.

I'm falling.

The wind feels nice.

The sky is so blue...

* * *

**Year 1916**

I groan. It's too damn _early_, I tell you. I _drag_ myself out of bed, positively _throw_ myself down the stairs, and nearly _kill_ myself with the effort of hauling myself out the door. All while looking fabulous, of course.

I head over to the main building of campus. While opening the door, I catch a glimpse of my best friends, sitting at a table in the middle of the dining hall. Making my way over to them, grabbing food here, a drink there, I catch words of the gossip. Actually, I catch more than just words, as glares and disgusted looks are sent in my direction.

Frowning, I slide into my seat at the teacher's table. Catarina, sitting on my left, sits her teacup down, and glances and Ragnor, who in turn looks at Anne and John, who looks at Tessa. Then they all look at me. I raise m eyebrow. "Anyone care to tell me whats going on?" Catarina gets straight to the point. "Did you or did you not have multiple affairs with the students, Magnus? And not just the female ones?"

This makes me laugh. "I did no such thing." "Then why," Ragnor muses "Is everyone saying you did, I wonder." My feet prop themselves on the table. Anne sends a disgusted glance in my direction, before her and her husband leave the table. I throw my hands up. "I truly didn't!"

Catarina purses her lips. "The thing is, Magnus, You haven't been very reliable in the category as of late. You are the youngest teacher here, as well." Glaring, I cross my arms. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Ragnor mumbles some excuse and gets up from the table. Catarina folds her hand on top of the table. "I suggest you get your act together. You've been moody ever since you got here." She stands up, gracefully, and smiles. "It's a good thing you are so handsome, or some of us might have had a hard time with you." She pats my arm, "Please, Magnus?" and walks out of the hall.

* * *

**Year 1929 **

The floor is hard on my back as I look up at the ceiling. When did my life get so bothersome? Not only can I not grow older, but I can not seem to stay in one place for very long either. Looking around the room, my gaze lands on the arm of the young boy sleeping on the couch. It probably wasn't such a good idea for him to be here, after all.

Sigh. My breath frosts in the air. "All in need is a violin" I whisper in a pitiful attempt at a dramatic scene. I hear a snort. "Can you even play one?" Hmm...evidently he wasn't asleep after all. "Oh, yeah, of course I can...probably. Never tried..." The room is silent for a few moments. "I'm leaving town." I didn't mean to tell him. He doesn't look too surprised, just says "Magnus."

After our usual night-time routine of re-dressing, eating, and tidying up, he leaves.

There's a train schedule around here somewhere.

And there's always...

A train.

* * *

**A Few Weeks Earlier  
**

Thunk.

It's the sound of the knife hitting the board. Jace whistles. I know it's him, because his whistle is low, and a little breathy. My face heats up. "Thanks." I continue throwing each knife, and hear the thunk every time. Even though it's my first time doing anything remotely dangerous since I fell, I can tell I must be doing pretty well.

I feel a tap on my double eye patches, and Jace's voice asks me "How in the hell can you do that?" Shrugging, I go to collect my knives. My shoulders are immediately directed in the opposite direction by small hands on my sides. Max prods my back. "How are you going to perform anymore if you can't even see where you're going?"

The knives feel cold in my hands, and I savagely throw them to where I think the board is. Mum calls us in for dinner, but I ignore her, and ask Aline if she'll stand in front of the larger board and let me throw knives at her. "Hang on, I'll fetch Helen, she'd want to do this too!" She answers, surprisingly. I grab at her coat. "Helen?" But Aline's gone and fetched her already. Helen's voice is high and sharp, and she giggles as they line up on the board.

The knives are still cold. The rain mists down on me. It smells of lavender. I hear the -thunk- -thunk- -thunk- of the knives as the hit the board - and not flesh. Smiling feels good. Good feels happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Year 1931**

Applause is the only thing I can hear, as it drowns out my labored breathing. The exhilarating feel of the cold night air mixed with the adrenaline; it's something I've missed. pointing the fingers of my outstretched hands towards the ceiling, I flip myself backwards to land on the back of Jia's horse. Bowing, I leave the ring, but the second I dismount I am mauled by my siblings...er...I think. Yes.

Hands pat my head and my back. For the first time in years I feel useful, wanted. I hated being a burden to my family, not being able to perform because of my injuries. I used to sneak out with Jace; still do. Performing tonight finally felt like I had my life back. It felt like the best thing in the world.

Someone wraps their hand around my waist and guides me to my tent. Presumably my tent. I hope. I hate being manhandled, but I love this person, so it isn't to painful. Not in the least. When we push through the heavy cloth of the tent, said person and I fall backwards onto my bed, hands clasped. "I'm so, so, utterly proud of you. You did it!" He exclaims joyfully.

His hand is smooth, and I wonder how he does that. My own hands are rough and calloused from hours of hard labor. i feel my face break into a smile, and I touch his face as well, just to make sure he is smiling too. He is, of course. He get's worked up about the tiniest things.

He laughs again, and it's the most wonderful thing I've even heard in my life. I feel his warm breath with my hand. Suddenly I feel my mask slipping off my face. Although I have bandages over my eyes, I clap my hands over them anyways, embarrassed.

"Alexander."

His voice is firm, but still soft, and not to mention extremely sexy. With a sigh I let my hands fall on either side of me, and...it's then that I realize he has gingerly placed himself on top of me. My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers pulling at his hair. His mouth tastes like honey...

* * *

**Year 1928, December.**

When the doctor told me I would never see again, I knew my performing days were over.

All that was fine with me, really.

Yes.

It was perfectly fine that I'd never see Izzy, Max, or...Jace again.

Oh, they'd be there, and they'd see my horrible, scarred face, but I wouldn't see them, or anyone, or dance across the high wire, the one that was always strung across the gate so I could immediately catch the eye of our audience as soon as they came withing sight of our camp.

There would be no more applause for me, no more falling through the air, only to be saved at the last moment by one of Jia's Elephants, or Lions, or...hell, Tiger's, for all I knew.

Everyone had always teased me about how feminine I looked in my costume. At least now I hope I look tough with my double-eye patch black leather mask.

Right now, Jace is laughing, and telling me about how spectacular the new circus members are. I'll never know what they look like. I won't see my friends grow older, I won't enjoy watching the sun rise and set with Jace as we did every single day.

The circus was my life. I remember when I was really little, about four, looking up at our oddly coloured purple big top, with the big tents set up right next to the train track, and staring in awe at the humongous animals they were unloading. The first time I got my costume, I was eight, and the frilly skirt looked so pretty I just had to wear it.

And I did. All day long. Everyone had teased me about it, though I hadn't understood why. Jace had comforted me, of course. Isabelle's costume, to me, was by far the most exciting one. Looking like a queen, she proudly showed off her slim body in tight silver pants with red, purple, and gold trimming, a red dress with black vest that also had gold trimming, and her treasured silks, all colours of the rainbow.

Back then, because Jace had been small, he and Aline had done the flying trapeze, though Jace had always complained to me about it. His costume was these bloomer things that had patterns all over them, a leather vest with lots of complicated strings attached, and this gigantic hat he always managed to keep on his head. He was truthfully quite good, but he preferred to fight with everyone and get into lot's of trouble.

While I'm reminiscing about costumes I might as well describe the others. Aline's matches slightly with Jace's; she wears a frilly dress with tights and a vest, but she has multiple flowers in her hair. Sebastian, who is our age but extremely creepy, wears short shorts, torn blouses, long coats, and had these scales all along his arms and legs. Which we can all see because of his lack of clothing.

All the women's and men's outfit's changed daily, and everyone wore either 1. makeup, 2. a mask, or 3. Makeup _and_ a mask! I wore makeup that matched my dress. Jace wore a mask he called "fierce" and everyone else called "ornery." Oh, and we all have stage names, did I mention that?

* * *

**Year 1928, November  
**

Laying on my back, I stare up into the sky. I can't hear anything, which would have been strange, but right now I don't care.

My view of the sky abruptly ends, and I'm now looking up at brown. Hmm...the ceiling of a caravan? All the caravans have painted ceilings, though.

I can feel myself slipping away. In seconds, I am unconscious.

* * *

The first thing I feel when I wake up is pain, which is odd because there wasn't any earlier. It feels like I'm burning...my back, my hands, my...face?

I open my eyes and see a solid wall of fire. It's literally eating up the whole caravan. I can't breathe. Smoke billows up around me, and I scream, but no sound comes out. The fire is an angry yellow, tinged blue at the edges where it touches the door made out of sea wood.

The door! I move towards the door, but since I'm lying on the table I crash onto the floor. I try to open the door but the heat singes my flesh. I hold my hands up in front of my face, painfully throbbing and red. I throw myself forward, battering my hands on the wood of the door.

I turn around. The fire is crackling. My only escape is the heavy metal trapdoor in the back. Wrapping my hands and face with my shirt, I run directly into the flames and pull with all my strength at the trapdoor set into the floor. It barely budges. My hands catch on fire, so I tear of the fabric, and when I pull on the trapdoor, this time it cracks open slightly.

By now, my face wrappings are on fire, but I can't get them off. Pushing, the door finally heaves open. I land on the dry ground beneath the caravan, and I start to crawl out, coughing, ripping the bandages from my face.

That's when the whole caravan decides to collapse on top of me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Year 1930**

Yes, like you said: Rain is wet, is it not? Now I suppose that means we are all made of rain. And - Shh- rain...rain is water! Our body's are just vessels of water, ready to be drunken at a whim -"

A hand jerks out and slaps across my mouth, then shakily drops off, as it's owner and the rest of the club fall over the furniture and the floor, laughing uncontrollably. I take a swig from the green bottle in my hand, and yank off the remains of my waistcoat, grinning. One of the men, the one who tried to silence me, shouts out that "If you continue talking like this they'll make you president!" This gets another round of guffawing from the dense heap. "Of the insane asylum!"

After the giggling dies down, most of us attempt sitting in our chairs. Very few accomplish it. A couple of men join me on top of the table. "So tell us, if rain is - no, get this - _water_," one says "Then what is hail?" The only sounds are the slurping of alcohol.

"Eyeballs."

Of course, this sets them off again. Failing to gracefully dismount my pedestal, I resort to jumping off the table. Another round of bottles are brought out, and we all toast to various objects. One of the men jumps to his feet, twining his very large, very imaginary moustache. Another stands and taps his nonexistent cane on the ground, tipping his invisible hat. "Since we have no ladies" announces an attractive blonde haired young man. "We will have to do with Magnus!"

I am hoisted onto the table once again, being urged to sing. After I most notoriously decline, I slip out the back entrance, accompanied by the sounds of a piano. Over my shoulder, I hear them launch into a horribly off-key rendition of Yes! We Have No Bananas.

Turning out my pockets, I pick the few coins out of the lining. Hopefully, these meager offerings will jump-start my career. I have an urge to perform.

* * *

**One hour, three minutes, and 27 and counting seconds later**

"Confound it all!" Several well dressed women with parasols glance alarmingly at me. They are probably just admiring my purple tailcoats, paired with green pinstriped pants. Unfortunately, my deep red waistcoat had been ripped earlier. I bow in their direction in an apologetic way, then turn away. My shoes clack on the boards outside the oddly decorated station. I must confess, birds have never made quite the impression until now.

My immediate problem is this: I, the magnificent Magnus Bane, Secretive Fire-proof Immortal Extraordinaire, am completely broke, have no money, and am currently lacking the funds I require. Also, to add to my good fortune, the temperature has even further dropped, turning the rain into sleet. The train from Chicago to New York City is arriving now, I have nowhere to go! Just keeps getting better.

The tell-tale clickety clack of a train slowly continues, though the train in front of me has completely stopped. Turning around, I notice an old, unused platform on the opposite side of the station. As it's blocked off, and the train that is very slowly starting to leave he station clearly doesn't host a passenger car, this is the perfect opportunity. Standing at the edge of the platform, many thoughts run through my head.

This is the beginning of a new chapter of my life. March of 1930. Perfect time. Who knows where this train is going take me? In the darkness I can barely make out the writing on the side of the cars. Stepping off the side of the platform, I wait until the train speeds up enough for me to be sure it's actually leaving.

I run, and catch onto the side of one of the large doors on what I'm pretty sure is a storage car, and successfully slide into the middle. The night feels and smells like heaven. The stars wink jauntily at me, and I whoop crazily. Adrenaline rushes are way better than drinking, why haven't I done this before?

My victory is short lived. I feel a hand roughly pull my shoulder back, and an eerie blue light flares up, showing me the contents of the car.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N I'm back! I'm extremely sorry for having left this hanging for so long; I went somewhere far off, and no one told me there was no internet! Grrr. Anyways, did anyone notice they updated FF.N again? Well they did! It's so much easier to use now! I have a lot of energy so I'm going to just sit myself down and focus it all on writing you a new chapter and hopefully it will be good!**

**Another thing, if it seems I have killed off Alec, re-read chapter two. Review please!  
**

* * *

**Year 1929, July**

Peanut butter is not good. Peanut butter is evil.

One reason behind this accusation is that when trying to eat said "butter", it sticks to the roof of your mouth and refuses to remove itself.  
Another thing. The name is "Peanut butter", although I see no reason to call it that.

Peanut butter is not smooth, nor is it soft and melty like _real_ butter is.

"Alec?"

My heart thuds dangerously. "Damn it Jace, I thought I told you not to sneak up on me!" I hear laughing, and a very disappointed "Alec!"  
Whoops. "Sorry, mother."

More laughing. "What?" My tone is sharp, and Isabelle says quietly. "Mum isn't here, Alec. That was me."  
"Why were you prejudicing against peanut butter? I happen to quite like it." Jace interrupts.

Ugh. It's just too confusing with so many people.

"I just don't like it. Is that a problem?" Someone bought a jar of this new so called "treat" and brought it back. I mistakenly tried it earlier, and still can't get the taste out of my mouth.

"Nooo...I just think that sulking around moping about everything isn't going to help anything."

Maybe so, but I can't shake the feeling I get when I hear that annoying little high-pitched voice that joined us last week. All she's done is cling onto Jace and swoon around. I can't imagine _she's_ good for anything. At least _I_ can throw things...at her, if possible.

"C'mon." Jace's warm hands haul me to my feet. "Do you want to go into town? During the summer they have grand markets and all sorts of stuff we've never seen before." He and Izzy wrap their hands around my waist and pull me along, both excitedly describing the scene to me in detail.

I let my arms fall on their shoulders. Izzy is almost as tall as me now. She must have grown up so much in the last year, and Jace...Jace too.

* * *

**Year 1937**

"Please?"

"No."

"Please!"

"Nope."

"Pleeeeaaaaase?"

"Well..."

"Yay!"

"Never."

"But ALEC."

"Ha!"

* * *

**Year 1930**

Shoving the last few parcels aboard the slowly moving train, I clasp onto the side of the door handle, waiting for Jace's arms to pull me up. They always do, as they are doing now. I clamber on to the floor of the empty baggage car, sitting close to Jace.

The usual group is undoubtedly here; we always ride in the same car when switching cities. Sitting across from me are Simon, Raphael, Elliot, Gregor, and Zeke; our eccentric acrobatic group, and on this side, Sebastian, Elias, and Jordan-Kyle. The snake charmer, the fire breather, and the stage operator. I don't trust Sebastian, but Jace does, so I guess I can tolerate him.

Our current topic of conversation is the four new people that arrived this year.

"So what about that Helen girl" Elliot asks, the hint of an accent tinging his breathy voice.

"What I want to know is where she came from, to have gotten so good at the trapeze so quickly." I smirk at Jace's comment. "Jealous, are we?" I hear a few chuckles. Jace's next comment is drowned out by the yells from the acrobats; from what I can smell, they've found some liquor.

"So," Sebastian re-starts the conversation after the bottle is passed around. "Apart from the blonde wanna-be fairy, I now have a sister." The mutual jeers fill the cabin. "She is quite the oblivious one, but she could be useful."

Jace snorts. "Like you have a chance. Haven't you seen her? She much prefers me." Here a but of tussling interrupts our conversation. I attempt to get it back on track. "What does she look like?" I'm not actually that interested. I'd rather leave her out altogether

"She has red hair and green eyes." Jace shouts from the doorway. I think he's holding Sebastian out the window.

"She's really short with bad attitude." Sebastian calls, his voice muffled. Yep, he's outside.

"She's a wonderful artist with a contortionist act in the making." Simon poetically adds. "I should know." What does that mean?

When Jace and Sebastian get pulled back in, having both fallen out while wrestling, I lean my head against Jace's shoulder once again. He pats my back, and I find myself drifting to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Alright people-who-I-will-not-acknowledge-your-specific-ge nder/specie, I have a goal set for today, and I expect actual reviews so I can post the next chapter without having to wait for that one review that makes feel guilty, 'cause I got a lot of brain/mind skills here people, and I'm using them all on my own projects (they include several manga, novels, short stories, scripts, and more recently, the filming of an overdue movie/show-thing).

I can actually write a lot pretty fast, but since I don't currently have that many followers I in turn have no motivation. **I'm an interesting person come on people follow me read my stories make me happy its the least you can do alright?**

* * *

**Year 1930, Alec's POV**

My body jolts, and my mind returns to my body. In other words, I wake up. Quite jarringly, at that. My heads rolls forward, of Jace's chest. scratching at my eye patches, I'm about to remove them when I hear someone climb into the car and sit loudly sit down.

"Hey, you woke up!" Sebastian greets me cheerfully. "You slept through most of our stop. It's almost midnight now." One thing I like about Sebastian is he always make sure to tell me then exact time. Though he seems overly lively as of right now.

I duck my head, pulling my hood up over my long hair which falls past my nose, hiding my eyes.

"So...what do you think of our new members? I hope you don't feel to biased towards them both; I mean they did basically take your spot over, and-"

"No, what happens is meant to happen, you know? I'm meant to do something else, I...just haven't figured out what that is." I shamelessly interrupt him when he slings his arm over my shoulder. I'm fairly certain he means it in a good way. Possibly.

"Of course." I can just_ hear_ the smirk in his voice.

"Egad! What have's we here?" The floor shakes slightly when several pairs of shoes land on it solidly. My spine straightens involuntarily. "Jace!"

Sebastian's arm drops off my shoulders, and I hear a thud; I do believe he just threw himself on the floor. "It's nothing! I swear! We haven't been doing anything!"

Jace's voice drips with mock anger. "What?! How dare you defile my beautiful Alec! I can tell you lie by that self-incriminating pose you strike. There, on your knees, vile peasant."

"Never!" Sebastian counters. "My love lies deeper than your petty infatuation ever will!"

"Outrageous! How dare you talk in such a manner to the royalty that stands before you? I hereby challenge you to a duel in Alec's honor." Jace's sound effects make me smile. I find myself wondering if these two can go a day without breaking into a fight.

"And you'd think I'd be the one to chose." My muttering breaks no barriers on their ears. Their present bout of cursing each other in the favoured flowery language of the sultans is cut short as the train begins moving once again.

Jace plops himself down next to me. Reaching out, I discover his knee is level with my face. I use my yawning as an excuse to lean my head against it, and feel the shift in his posture as he leans back, the box he currently presides over kept from sliding by the heel of his boot.

As our train slowly pulls out of the station, I once again start to fall asleep to the whispering and giggling emanating from the acrobats.

All at once, there is a crack. Jace shouts, and stands up, knocking my head. The whole cabin is filled with agitated whispers before turning eerily silent, except for the boots clicking against the metal door outside.

The brief shuffling noises end with another pair of boots landing on the boards; these ones are clearly unwelcome. An unrecognizable voice triumphantly whoops, but is cut off with a gasp at the scrape of a match.

* * *

**Year 1930, Magnus' POV**

My first impression of the train car dwellers is daunting, to say the least. The light comes from behind the two men standing directly in front of me; the one with his hand grasped firmly on my arm is scowling, the one beside him is too...in fact, It'd be safe to assume they all are.

I let out an undignified squeak as the brown-haired man holding my arm twists it slightly, pulling my face to meet his. My eyes meet the one standing, arms crossed, next to him. I can barely see the faces; the shadows are too prominent.

I squint towards the dull blue light which illuminates only the sight if intertwined fingers. A small movement on my other side captures my sight, and four boys hunched in the opposite corner from the lovers crawl towards me calmly.

"Who" My attention is directed back to the light, now raised to show a mans face, framed by golden blonde hair. "Are you? And why do you assume you can hop aboard our train at your leisure?"

My first instinct is to lie, of course. But this person tightly holding my arm hostage, and my vow to reestablish a new life for myself wins out. I tell them the truth.

"I ran away."

The golden mans head tilts downwards, turning his half-smile slightly sinister with the shadows thrown haphazardly around his features. "Aren't you a little old to be running from things unwanted?" He looks down for a moment, breaking his composure.

The brightness disappears from his face and transfers to another as the other blonde male takes the lantern. His sneering face is even crueler; his hair whiter.

"So" All I can do is talk. "Are you guys in a gang or something?"

The man - no, boy, as I can now see as the lanterns light is turned up - let's go of my arm. A chuckle escapes his mouth, and he exchanges a glance with the other boy, the pale one.

In the warmer now-yellow light casts a completely different feel. The darkness and shadows fade somewhat, though they leave behind the shadows on all the occupants. I take stock on them as they all unabashedly stare at me.

There are five boys on my left, their lithe bodies clothed in odd attire; the one boy who held my arm and is currently snapping his teeth at me in what I think (hope) is a playful way; the pale one setting down the lantern and glaring at me; the golden boy with the hooded figure crouched at his feet, face completely covered in shadow; and to my surprise, a young boy staring curiously at me from his perch on the low ceiling.

"Let us keep him." From the far corner one of the strange boys stands. 'We can work him. After all" He tilts his head to the side, his teeth flashing, eyes twinkling mischievously. "He ran away. Where else does he have to go?"

This proposition is met with several murmurs of agreement.

"And what better...than to join a circus?"


	6. Chapter 6

**So right now I'm raving about Valshe. I freaking love Valshe. Thank you to Flussi; You gave me my longest review ever! Schwärmen means basically to rave, which in my book can translate to fangirling! So thank you so much!** **I really need to learn German. **

**Anyway, It's my birthday! So all those who review are rewarded with cake!**

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**Year 1930, Alec's POV**

My knee pops when I climb to my feet. I don't know who this is, but whatever reason they have for deciding to barge in on _our_ train, it's invalid. Jordan-Kyle begins to talk to the infiltrator. Sometimes I really hate not being able to see. I have to believe what people tell me, I can't afford not to. The only thing I feel right now is Jace's warm hand gripping mine; if his fingers were to brush my pulse, he would think I was frightened, but I can't drop his hand.

I rely too heavily on Jace.

The intruder speaks in a deep male voice. "I ran away." I almost snort, until I feel heat on my face and hear Jace's retort "Aren't you a little old to be running from things unwanted?" I suddenly have a manic urge to know exactly who this man is. Jace's hand falls from my fingers as they reach up to scratch my accursed bandage.

I hear a slight intake of breath, and a soft clanking noise before the stranger clears his throat and shakily asks if we…he just…comparing _us_ to those street thugs… I can barely contain my laughter. God almighty, this man must be a fool if he thinks that. The soft-footed sound of the acrobats always-bare feet slip across the floorboards. Raphael's mildly accented voice with which he annunciates everything overly clearly with declares his opinion.

I feel a slew of emotions as my thoughts scatter in several directions; betrayed at the thought of hiring an outsider for no known reason, nostalgia at the thought of the pranks Jace and I used to play on the newcomers when we were young, childishly selfish at the thought of having to share _my_ home, devious at the thought of spontaneously pushing this foreigner off into the cold night air, and probably overly dramatic at everything else, especially the things that could go wrong.

"And what better than to join a circus?" Sarcasm isn't my strong suit, but occasionally it comes across. Apparently this isn't one of those times, because everyone just agreed with me. One would think the acrobats would be against an invader, since they are secretive and cynical at their best; not to lump them together, but they really are oddly similar in those aspects. Even Elias doesn't mind, though I think he'd actually enjoy having another human to pester.

Jace binds my arm tight against my body, his arm firm against my back, pressing his heat into my shoulder-blade. "It seems he is no longer a threat."

"I strongly disagree." Intending to make my point clear, I whisper loud enough for the unfortunate stranger to hear. Jace's breath is hot on my ear when I hear "You know I can feel you." I swallow and wait uncomfortably for the rest of his sentence.

"Don't get worked up about it please."

"I'm not unstable, Jace." He falls back a bit when I rip my arm away from him, leaving myself no connection to the world except through my feet. I catch a whiff of something familiar; not exactly unpleasant, but not entirely agreeable of any sort either. The spicy scent pricks the bottom of my nose; I rub it frantically as I sit down, wrapping my arms around my legs.

Blocking out everything is a special talent of mine, and I do it now. Jace's fingers flit across my back for a moment, but they retreat quickly. He knows what I want. He can tell what I need.

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**Year 1930, Magnus POV**

Smashed in the corner of the train car after being involuntarily added to this small circus crew watching the one with their whole face covered crouch one again on the floor; my life sure has turned around. I'd only seen a small flash of their mouth when they'd venomously lashed out at the golden one and sunk down to the floor. Watching the other boys, I noticed the five boys with the dancer bodies slink together into a warm pile, encasing themselves in what looked suspiciously like fur. The slightly more muscled one without a shirt who'd grabbed me – my, what a title – was drinking out of a bottle with the two blonde ones – the pale smirky one, and the golden angel one.

I was betting these boys were performers, being fit, and with the attitudes of theirs. It was only fair of me to judge them; I barely knew them, yes, but I might as well figure document everything I notice. This brings about a question: the other boy, the one in the hammock, has been eyeing me for the last 20 minutes, but the thin dark one just remains in that bent position.

My hand reaches out just a hair to touch the cold ground. It's hard to imagine this, but the wind somehow doesn't reach us here inside the car, leafing around us in favour of the sky. I scoot my foot closer, and closer to the dark thin one sitting alone in the opposite corner. Just as I am about to shift my posture, I look up and catch the golden one's withering glare. This puts a new twist on my situation. I'd rather not get tossed out into the night.

Another thing is highly relevant to my situation: Where were we going?


End file.
